


More Than We Deserve

by 14winters



Series: Only Love [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Established Stoncy, Marijuana, Missing Scene, Multi, Period-Typical Homophobia, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Recreational Drug Use, Stoncy was happening in secret just prior and all through season 2, Stranger Things 2, stoncy, this is just me filling in the blanks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-05 01:00:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12783492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/14winters/pseuds/14winters
Summary: An exploration of what was really going on between Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan during the events of season 2.Jonathan and Nancy are driving back to Hawkins after spending the night at Murray's. Jonathan reflects on what really happened that we, and Murray, didn't see.





	1. Undercover

**Author's Note:**

> Work title is from "Twist of Fate" by Olivia Newton John.

Jonathan stared out the windshield, grasping the steering wheel with both hands, wondering how long it would be before Nancy brought up Murray’s presumptions from last night.

She had been silent for the first ten or so minutes of their drive back to Hawkins. But she’d taken his hand during the walk to the car, and had seemed reluctant to let go. In truth so had he. The misunderstanding with Steve was heavy on both their minds. Nancy hadn’t spoken of it since they’d been at her house, after calling Barb’s mother. Even then she hadn’t wanted to go into detail.

Most people thought Jonathan was the impassive one, but really Nancy was the most difficult person to read. That was one thing Murray had gotten right. She only wore her emotions openly when she wanted, otherwise she was as expressive as a blank wall.

And save for the mix of desire and pain he’d seen in her last night, she had kept nearly everything hidden from him for days. Her focus had been on the lab, on her mission of vengeance for Barb. He couldn’t blame her single-mindedness. He could only partially understand what it was like to have a loved one’s death on your conscience.

That made him think of Hopper, of the daughter he’d lost. Of how he had thought his brother dead for those long horrible days last November. Nancy had had to live with that for a year, and would have to for the rest of her life. A chill went through him, and he couldn’t resist glancing at her.

“He was wrong, you know,” Jonathan said, and peripherally he saw Nancy’s head jerk up to him, before she looked down at her hands in her lap.

“Which part?” she said, followed by a dry laugh. “The part where I’m pretending to be someone else? The part where I retreat? The part where you have trust issues?”

She bit off the last word, he could tell she wanted to continue but was holding down her anger.

“It’s not your fault he made assumptions. I know the truth. Steve knows the truth,” Jonathan said, wanting to reach for her hand, but waiting. He wasn’t sure she’d accept it.

“Steve…” His name was almost a whisper, and he could hear her pain. He clenched the steering wheel tighter, subconsciously pressing harder on the gas pedal. They needed to get back to Hawkins. This trip had been too long. Especially for Nancy.

“Steve thinks I’ve been lying to him. How can I convince him how I really feel now?” He felt her look at him, and glanced over to see the pain openly expressed on her face. It was like being stabbed in the chest.

“Steve knows you love him. That you love both of us. He just—” Jonathan sighed, trying to find the right combination of words in his mind. 

“He thinks I’ve been acting. That I’ve never loved him.” Her voice broke, and he knew she was holding back tears. Nancy never cried openly, not since she’d learned Barb was truly dead.

“Then you explain to him that he’s wrong. And why,” Jonathan said, keeping his voice even. “We both know you haven’t been acting. We can fix this, Nance.”

And he reached over and put his hand over her knee, and she took it immediately in both of hers. Her hands were cold.

“You don’t have trust issues, Jonathan,” she said suddenly. He took a quick look at her expression. Her eyes were hard with anger, staring straight out the windshield, focused on nothing.

“I’m the one who has trust issues. I didn’t trust Steve to understand about this, about Barb, so I…I pushed him away,” she said, her fingers grasping his hand tightly before she loosened her grip, only to rub her thumb over his palm, over and over. He knew her thoughts were still spinning, but she didn’t know what else to say without letting her emotions spill over. He could relate to that.

“He’ll understand this, Nance,” he said, closing his fist gently over her restless fingers. She sighed, and raised his hand to kiss the top of it.

Last night the pressure of holding up the charade that he and Nancy _were_ “just friends” had worn both of them down. Jonathan knew all Nancy wanted was to love them both openly, but she couldn’t. Jonathan couldn’t. And now she thought Steve wouldn’t believe the truth.

Since July the three of them had been together, more than friends, but still navigating this strange relationship they’d formed. Jonathan had suspected Steve felt more than just physical attraction toward him, but wasn’t willing to push Steve to express emotions _Steve_ hadn’t even fully acknowledged. Steve accepted that Nancy loved him and Jonathan, wanted to be with both of them, and that Jonathan loved Nancy. Jonathan didn’t want to ask for more than that.

But now Nancy had made a mistake, and he was just as much to blame as her for pushing Steve away. Steve had to know how much _both of them,_ Jonathan and Nancy, cared for him. Otherwise they would both lose someone they knew had become more than a friend. Steve was their family. Neither of them would let him go.

They’d each been silent for a while now, and Nancy was back to tracing his palm with her thumb.

“It was fun last night, though, wasn’t it?” Nancy said, chuckling softly to herself.

“Ha,” Jonathan said dryly. “For you maybe. I know I wasn’t the only one who thought he had the place bugged.”

She _tsk_ ed at him. “I indulged you by writing you notes, instead of just _telling_ you, ‘hey, cut the crap for now and come sleep with me, make the creeper happy,’” she said, her chuckle becoming real laughter.

He had to laugh too, remembering last night. How after Murray had gone upstairs, he and Nancy had started passing notes like they were in school and the teacher was still at the front of the class. He’d written her first. _Do you think he plans to record us?_

She’d rolled her eyes, but written back. _No, why would he?_

_Blackmail._

_Don’t be silly._

_Maybe we should pretend we’re following his advice._

_Are you serious? Pretend we’ve been sexually frustrated with each other for who knows how long?_

_It couldn’t hurt._

_Fine. We’ll come out of our rooms twice, the first time to talk about it, ““pretend”” he’s wrong about us, then the second time we can just make out and go to sleep._

_Don’t sound so excited._

She’d punched him playfully in the arm, and it had taken a lot of self-control not to just tackle her right then.

They had ended up just making out and then going to sleep. They were both tired from drinking so much vodka, especially Nancy, who was already wary of it for the trouble it had caused her with Steve. She drank plenty of water after Murray had gone upstairs, and was mostly sober when they decided to “share the bed”.

He’d been spooning her, and she’d felt his “sexual frustration” as she called it, and said, “If Steve were here do you think he’d actually want to have sex in this weird guy’s house?”

“Not really Steve’s style,” Jonathan had said, before raining kisses on Nancy’s neck and jaw. She had laughed, kissed him long and deep one last time, before becoming thoughtfully silent. He knew he’d fallen asleep before her.

“Once all of this is over, I’m sleeping with both of you for real,” Nancy said now, kissing his fingers. Her hands had begun to warm up, and he smiled.

 

 

 


	2. Another Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short conversation between Jonathan and Steve after Will's exorcism. Jonathan does some convincing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from the song "Another Chance" by Utada Hikaru (my favorite music artist).

Jonathan wordlessly picked up the dozing Will from the backseat, his brother’s warm weight in his arms the farthest thing from a burden after what they’d all been through.

Joyce climbed out of the backseat on Will’s side, unwilling to let her son out of her sight. Even though Nancy had told them how the mind flayer had disappeared into the night sky, Hopper contacting them through the walkie talkies to tell them El had closed the gate.

Jonathan couldn’t blame her. As he walked toward their house, he kept looking down to reassure himself Will was still breathing.

Nancy had her hand on his back, walking beside him, his mom immediately behind him. Hopper’s truck was already parked out front, and a car they didn’t recognize parked next to it.

“Is that Billy Hargrove’s car?” Nancy said, looking toward it in confusion.

Before any of them could answer, the front door banged open and Steve stood there, Hopper close behind him. As he stepped onto the porch, Jonathan could already hear the sound of many smaller feet running to the front door, echoes of “Will! Will! Will’s back!” becoming louder at the party’s approach.

Steve was breathing hard, as if he’d run to the door from the back of the house. “Is he…?” he said, his eyes glued to Will.

Jonathan gave a half-smile. “He just dozed off on the ride back,” he said, stepping inside.

“Steve, what happened to your face?” Nancy cried, the three of them finally seeing his cuts and bruises and bloodied face in the light of the living room. Nancy stepped up to him, her fingers hovering over one of the rainbow bandages on Steve’s forehead. He opened his mouth to answer, but his expression seemed frozen in some odd combination of surprise and relief.

Before Steve could answer, Will’s friends were upon them, clamoring around Jonathan, all speaking at once.

“All right! Everyone sit down!” Hopper yelled, his arm going around Joyce’s shoulders.

Will stirred in Jonathan’s arms at the noise, his eyes blinking open. This only made Mike, Dustin, and Lucas all begin speaking at once again. Jonathan swiftly walked to the couch and set Will down, backing away so his friends could crowd around him, all of them giving Will a group hug he gladly accepted. Mike hugged him the tightest, and Jonathan noticed the other boy’s eyes were already red from crying. Jonathan’s heart squeezed in his chest, as he remembered how Mike had been with Will in that lab, by Will’s side ever since his brother had gotten possessed.

He was dragged out of these dark thoughts by a voice behind him. “Jonathan.”

He turned and it was Steve, that look of relief now mingled with worry. He was rubbing the back of his neck, glancing at Hopper standing beside Joyce, then back to Jonathan.

“I have to show you something,” Steve said, sounding embarrassed.

Steve turned to lead him into the kitchen. Jonathan felt Nancy’s eyes on them, from where she stood near the couch, all but hovering over Mike, but she didn’t move.

Jonathan stepped into his kitchen to find it no less chaotic than it had looked before he left. The one difference being that near the back door was the unconscious form of Billy Hargrove.

“So, those tranquilizers you guys were using on Will, um,” Steve began. Jonathan looked at him to still see Steve rubbing the back of his neck, looking at Billy with a mix of sheepishness and…was that pride?

“Max, well, she stuck her step-brother with one to stop him from killing me,” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips and turning to Jonathan with a crooked smile. Jonathan found himself smiling back.

“So what do we do with him?” Jonathan said.

After a discreet conversation with Hopper and Max while Joyce got Will settled in bed, the other kids getting out blankets and pillows to stay the night, it was decided Steve and Jonathan would follow each other out to the Hargrove’s house with Billy, and Hopper would call Max’s mother.

Max, relieved to be allowed to stay the night at the Byers’, quickly went back to Will’s room.

Hopper, rubbing a hand over his mouth, looked between Jonathan and Steve, before saying, “Get back here as quick as you can, we don’t need his parents asking questions. Leave him in his car for the night if you have to.”

“No problem, Chief,” Steve said, and Jonathan nodded. After Hopper walked away, Jonathan could all but hear Steve sag with relief.

“How do we get him to his car without your mom noticing?” he said.

They ended up carrying Billy out the back door and around to the front. Jonathan helped Steve shove Billy into the backseat, and headed to his own car.

They got Billy back to his house without incident. Jonathan kept his car running while Steve played ding-dong ditch, sprinting to Jonathan’s car and jumping in the passenger seat before anyone came to the door.

During the drive, Steve filled Jonathan’s customary silence by telling him what had happened while Nancy and Jonathan had been gone. Drawing the demodogs to the junkyard, fighting Billy, leading the kids through the tunnels.  Jonathan had a feeling Steve wanted to keep talking just so there wasn’t a chance the subject of Nancy would come up.

They pulled up in front of Jonathan’s house, and Jonathan cut off the engine. He almost decided against saying anything, turning to open the driver’s side door. But he stopped himself.

“Hey, Steve,” Jonathan said, putting his hand out to touch Steve’s arm.

Steve was just about to open the car door, but stopped at Jonathan’s touch. There was a cautiousness in his face, but also a tenderness Jonathan had gotten used to. The quiet seconds passed and Jonathan thought how long it had been since they’d been able to just be together, alone without worrying about the other kids at high school, their siblings, their parents. He couldn’t even remember the specific day.

“You know Nancy, she wants to talk to you. About what happened on Halloween,” Jonathan said, finally dropping his hand from Steve’s arm.

Steve looked down, his hair hanging into his eyes. “I can’t imagine why. She knows you took her home, that I just left her there.”

Steve raised his head, but didn’t look at Jonathan, instead staring out the windshield, the droop in his shoulders an unnerving contrast with his hands, gripping his knees until his knuckles turned white.

Jonathan took a slow breath. “I didn’t tell her you left her there. I told her you asked me to take her home.”

Steve’s head whipped around to look at him, his eyes wide on Jonathan’s face. He said nothing, so Jonathan continued.

“She was upset, Steve, about a lot. She doesn’t want to leave it like this. She—” Jonathan broke himself off, wanting to say, _she still loves you_. But it wasn’t his place to say. Steve wouldn’t believe him anyway. He had to hear it from Nancy.

Steve was shaking his head, looking away from him again. “I told her it was okay,” he said.

Jonathan froze, wanting to think he didn’t hear right.

Steve looked at him, his eyes sad. “You know it’s okay, right, Jonathan? She chose the better guy.”

Jonathan was already shaking his head before Steve had finished speaking. “You know that’s not true. And what did I chose, Steve, huh? When we started this, I thought it was just about our feelings for Nancy. But it’s not anymore. You know it isn’t. I care about both of you.”

He couldn’t say love. He had, before, and Steve wasn’t able to say it back. Jonathan knew he wouldn’t now.

Steve was shaking his head, looking down at his lap, his hands running restlessly over his thighs. “It’s better like this, Jonathan. Me and you…it can never work.” And he gestured between them, without looking up. “And Nancy, what if she thinks that, too? Maybe that’s why she couldn’t say anything until she was shitfaced,” Steve said, a humorless laugh following his words.

Jonathan’s heart was pounding in his chest, and he couldn’t find words, only fear. So he reached out and pulled Steve to him, grasping the back of his neck and kissing him hard.

Steve gasped into his mouth, and to Jonathan’s relief, began kissing him back. Jonathan’s hand fisted in Steve’s hair, and Steve’s hand came to rest against his face. Jonathan tasted the blood already on Steve’s lips, and it only fueled his frustration.

All the fear, the guilt, the frustration Jonathan had buried, again and again for days, over Will, his mom, Nancy, Steve, he channeled all of it into the kiss. He kissed Steve until they were both struggling for breath, until Steve felt Jonathan’s tears on his hand and pulled away.

“Jonathan?” Steve whispered, his thumb running beneath his eye, almost pressing too hard. Steve’s hand was shaking.

“We’re not leaving it like this,” Jonathan said, his voice coming out a ragged whisper.

Steve looked into his eyes, the sadness still there. But he nodded.


	3. Smoke and Mirrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a.k.a. Nancy and Jonathan ship each other with Steve really hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work's rating is being changed to Explicit for this chapter. I am still an amateur at writing smut, please be kind if you choose to comment.

It had been two days since El closed the gate.

Nancy hadn’t seen Steve or Jonathan in that time. The morning after, they all left the Byers in various states of dishevelment. Jonathan had driven Nancy and Mike home, while Steve drove Dustin and Lucas. Max stayed with Hopper and El, so Hopper could help explain to Mrs. Hargrove what had happened to her step-son the night before. And Max had given fair warning that her step-father was no picnic to deal with, under any circumstances. Hopper had gotten the hint and promised to be with her when they took her home.

Nancy had had some small hope that El had warmed toward the other girl, when she’d seen the two walking next to each other toward Hopper’s truck that morning, their breath rising together in the early morning cold. She’d heard all the kids whispering together in the living room late into the night, from where she’d settled in Jonathan’s bed, the bedroom door wide open by her own choice. It had given her the smallest comfort, that after so much pain and horror, at least these kids could still be together. Whole.

Jonathan had chosen to sleep with Will in his brother’s room that night. Nancy hadn’t been able to sleep at all. It was nothing new for her. She’d met Mike in the Byers’ kitchen around 3am, and they’d made hot cocoa. It had been the first time in a long time she’d talked to Mike, just talked to him.

Steve had been asleep on the couch in the living room, and Nancy had thought perhaps fifty times whether or not she should go wake him, talk to him. Tell him everything she’d been pushing down, not only since the Halloween party, but for months. Nearly a year. Seeing Mike’s tears and knowing yet another’s pain, knowing she had contributed to it, it had weighed her down. Made her just want to lie down and never get up. But even after she’d hugged Mike tight to her, felt his tears soak her shirt, seen him back to his sleeping place in the living room, still she didn’t sleep.

Now Nancy sat with Jonathan in his room, marijuana smoke hovering toward the ceiling, her head on his chest, his fingers running through her hair.

They’d just finished catching up on a good portion of their homework, from missing the past two and a half days of school. Jonathan had decided they should reward themselves by sharing a joint.

Nancy had slept for nearly thirteen hours the night before returning to school, and still she felt exhausted to her bones. She took another hit off the joint, closing her eyes, letting the waves of the high hit her. Part of her wanted so much to just take Jonathan’s hand and guide it to the heat between her legs, to let him take off all her clothes and make her forget everything. But the stronger part of her wouldn’t allow it. Still, she took Jonathan’s hand, deftly untangling it from her hair.

His hand was warm and pliant in hers. She kissed his fingertips, pressed his palm to her collarbone.

“Steve avoided us today,” she said, her mouth dry, her voice strained.

Jonathan’s fingertips skated over her chest and up her neck, then back down. The pleasurable chills helped counteract the sinking feeling in her heart.

“I talked to him that night, after we took Billy home,” Jonathan said, taking the joint from between her fingers with his other hand. She heard him take another hit, his fingers still light and soothing against her skin.

“What did he say?” she asked, the weed making her speak quickly, excitedly, surges of warmth running through her limbs.

Jonathan’s hand stopped moving, and his palm came to rest flat against her chest, over her heart. She sighed, feeling her heart beat against his hand, the heavy weight of it one of the most comforting things she’d felt for days. She ran her hand up and down his thigh, fighting the urge to just turn around and kiss him.

“I think he feels guilty,” Jonathan said, handing the joint back to her.

Her heart pounded faster. Jonathan bent his head and began pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses over her neck and shoulder, his free hand pulling the collar of her shirt aside to reach her skin. She gave an involuntary whimper at the sensual contact, her hand squeezing his thigh.

“You think?” Nancy said, honestly surprised at Jonathan’s statement. She kept her eyes closed, trying to hold onto something. Jonathan’s hand was so warm. She put her hand on top of his, still holding the joint awkwardly. “Did he say why?”

“He said he told you it was okay,” Jonathan said, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. A near indiscernible strain in his words made her freeze. She turned to look at him, his hand shifting to rest at the nape of her neck.

It took her a few seconds longer than it should have to process his words. So she took one last hit from the joint, before reaching across Jonathan and setting it aside in one of Joyce’s ashtrays on the nightstand.

Then she moved to frame Jonathan’s hips with her thighs, sitting in his lap. She then framed Jonathan’s face in her hands, looking straight into his bloodshot eyes. It felt so important to hold him like this, in this exact moment.

“He’s wrong,” she said, making her voice soft. “It’s not okay. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him so bad, Jonathan.” Tears wanted to break through but even while high she could hold them back.

“But we had to help Will, and I was so afraid we would lose him, I didn’t, I didn’t know—” Nancy cut herself off, her thoughts becoming too jumbled for her to continue. She bit her bottom lip, watching Jonathan’s eyes glaze over with tears. He cried so much more readily than her, it made her want to protect him, hurt whatever was hurting him. But usually the things hurting him were intangible. She couldn’t fight intangible things.

“I will make this right,” she said, her voice louder. Her head felt light, she didn’t know quite how loud she’d actually been.

Jonathan’s hands were now at her waist. She brushed his bangs off his forehead, and he closed his eyes. She kissed his closed eyelids, first the left, then the right. His breath quickened.

“I know you miss him, too,” she said, her voice cracking.

He swallowed, still keeping his eyes closed. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low with the effort to keep his tears hidden. Held down. He couldn’t hold them back as easily as she could. He hadn’t had as much practice.

She didn’t want him to hold them back. She’d seen him cry about his asshole of a father, about his guilt over Will, about Joyce’s pain after Bob’s death, being unable to do anything to help. And now, over Steve, over her mistake. She wouldn’t let him hold them back.

“Jonathan,” she whispered, leaning closer to his face. “Open your eyes. Please.”

Two, three, then four fraught seconds passed before he opened them. The tears overflowed, and she swept them gently away, licked the salty wetness from one thumb, then the other. Jonathan stared at her the whole time, his hands gripping tighter at her waist. His eyes moved down to her lips, but neither of them moved.

She knew another reason behind why the tears were there. He’d told her a few days ago, how before Halloween, Steve and he had gotten drunk together at Steve’s house. Nancy couldn’t be there because she’d had to babysit Holly.

Jonathan had told Steve he’d loved him and Steve hadn’t answered. She’s wouldn’t make Jonathan hurt more by bringing it up. The memory was passed between them without either saying a word.

“Whatever happens, I know you and Steve belong together,” she said, now staring at his mouth, too. She only then noticed she was running her hand through his hair. He loved it just as much as Steve, she knew. Jonathan was just less vocal, about everything he was feeling. She knew this, knew she had to tell him things he needed to hear. He didn’t even know what he needed to hear sometimes.

“How do you know?” he said, a note of wonder in his voice. He pulled her closer and kissed her collarbone, and she held the back of his head in her palm, trying not to hold too tight. His lips trailed up her neck, kissing and biting and kissing again, his tongue teasing the skin he was bruising.

“Because I see the way he looks at you,” she said on a gasp, then smiled to herself, biting her lip against the pleasure trying to overwhelm her.

Jonathan’s hands moved beneath her shirt, his palms spreading over her back, fingers splayed wide as if he wanted to hold all of her at once. She pressed herself against him, trying to measure her breaths around her pounding heart.

“Like he’s starving…but happy about it,” she added, the words coming out in a loud whisper near his ear, her hand unconsciously pulling his hair with her need.

He leaned back to look at her. Their eyes locked, dilated with desire, Jonathan still on the edge of tears. She knew part of it was the weed, the high still coursing through both of them.

“You’re not just saying that?” he said, skeptical and hopeful at once. Nancy shook her head adamantly. She ran her fingertips down the side of his neck, feeling him shudder at the sensation. Her pleasure spiked at the knowledge, and she bit her lip again, staring at his mouth. His lips were slightly parted, and so were hers. She had to fight to refocus on what he’d said.

“I saw him today in the hallway. He was looking at you, not me. I knew that look so well,” she said, a laugh bubbling up unexpectedly. The giggles kept coming even as she tried to speak. She lost her train of thought again.

Jonathan was unclasping her bra, before even taking her shirt off. He had a small smile on his face, watching her laugh. She framed his face in her hands again, her love for him, for Steve, overwhelming her for a moment. She looked straight into Jonathan’s eyes and thought they were the most beautiful eyes in the most beautiful face she had ever seen.

“Steve loves you, I know he does,” she said, and felt a pressure in her chest. It took a few seconds to realize it was tears trying to break through again. She didn’t let them. She lifted one of her hands and let the back of her fingers sweep over Jonathan’s cheek. He was looking intently at her, his eyes traveling over her face, likely trying to read her expression. She didn’t even know what she felt in that moment.

He lifted his hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, saying nothing. But somehow she knew he understood what she couldn’t say. That Steve used to look at her like that. And she’d known it, but had been hurting too much to really see.

She pushed the thoughts away, literally shaking her head, pressing her cheek into Jonathan’s palm. Then she kissed him.

It started as a sloppy, hurried kiss, both of them so high and so eager for each other. Her bra was unclasped but still hanging from her shoulders by the straps. Jonathan pressed her hard to him, deepening the kiss, their tongues meeting, both tasting the weed they’d smoked.

She finally pulled away for breath, gasping, “Jonathan, take my shirt off.”

They both pulled at the hem of her shirt, lifting at the same time. Her bra came off awkwardly with the shirt, and as soon as her arms were free from the shirt and bra she was kissing him again. She reveled at the sensation of his t-shirt against her nipples, the way his arms wrapped around her shoulders and waist, holding her just as tightly as she held him. Her nails dug into his shoulder through his t-shirt, her other hand going beneath his shirt, running her nails over his stomach, teasing the hem of his jeans.

Jonathan moaned into her mouth, and she teasingly bit his lower lip before leaning away. Both of them were breathing hard, their hands digging into each other’s skin, too aroused to let go, too high to rush anything.

Jonathan moved one hand to loosely grasp her breast, teasing the nipple between thumb and forefinger. She closed her lips tight, breathing hard through her nose, trying not to make any sound. His other hand was running up and down her back, his nails gentle against her skin, sending chills through her and making it even harder to stay quiet.

“I kissed Steve that night, before we went back inside,” Jonathan said, his hand moving from her breast down her stomach, to unbutton her jeans. She gripped his shoulders, biting down a gasp as his hand dipped beneath her panties and touched her.

At the same moment his other hand pressed against her lower back, he pushed a finger inside her. Her entire body shuddered and she pressed her face into his neck, biting the skin to keep from crying out. She was rewarded with a gasp from Jonathan, his nails digging into her back. His fingers began to tease her clit until she could barely breathe.

“I kissed him because I was afraid he would just leave. But he kissed me back,” Jonathan whispered into her ear, before kissing her neck, his fingers rubbing harder against her now. She gripped his shoulders even tighter, barely able to focus on anything but Jonathan’s fingers against her, tears threatening to spill over and she didn’t even know why.

“I know he still loves you, Nancy. I could feel it,” he said, kissing her neck, her jaw, her cheek. She shuddered again as his fingers teased her clit, pressing hard and then gently, torturing her. She whimpered, pressing her forehead into his shoulder, her arms wrapping around his neck, burying her fingers in his hair.

Then she felt his other hand on her face, tilting her chin up so he could look into her eyes, watch her face as she came. The pain and love she saw there overwhelmed her, so she kissed him, closing her eyes tight. Her climax tore through her, making her buck against his hand, thighs shaking. He kissed her fiercely, swallowing her cries as he pressed hard against her clit, wringing pleasure from her until dry sobs shook her entire body, until she was begging him, to keep going or to stop she didn’t know.

When he finally took his hand from her she immediately went limp, hugging him as tight as she could in her exhausted state. He ran his hand up and down her back, in slow, soothing strokes, and only then did she notice the draft against her bare skin, realizing she was shirtless while he remained fully clothed. It was a thrilling role reversal for her—she was so used to her boyfriends being shirtless while she kept all her clothes on.

As soon as she caught her breath, she gave him a light kiss on the lips, smiling at him. “You’re beautiful,” she said, cupping his cheek in her hand. Her high wasn’t as intense as before, but she knew it was important to say that to him, no matter that he didn’t take her seriously.

Proving her point, he smiled back at her dubiously. His eyes were still sad. But they were also warm, soft with satisfaction, like they always were after they’d been intimate. It had been hard for him to talk about Steve. She understood why he’d done it while she’d been too crazed with pleasure to give his words her full attention. Jonathan didn’t like too much attention focused on him, he never had.

But Nancy knew when he made an exception to such attention. Her smile turned impish and she lifted herself off him, only to recline beside him and begin unzipping his jeans.


End file.
